So Comes Snow after Fire
by random-k
Summary: Aqua alone, in the Realm of Darkness


So comes snow after fire

"_So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings."_

― _J.R.R. Tolkien,_ _The Hobbit or There and Back Again_

_I own nothing but my own ideas_

* * *

_"It's time to get up."_

It is cold, in the realm of darkness. How could it be anything else? Devoid of light, heat, growth. Maybe the river water might have photosynthetic plants deep below its depths,but is out of the question to look for them. All you can do is follow it.

The cold is bad enough. It keeps you numb, never truly comfortable. Water soaking through your clothing, would never truly be dry. For not even the strongest cast fire spell would last long in this realm. For what would it eat? There is almost nothing to fuel it. Only the air, the sand, the ice, and whatever happens to end up in here.

No wind stirs the waters, only your footsteps leave an impression in the sand. This world is timeless, in its monotony. You are used to traveling. To having companions, ones who challenge you, and entertain you, and teach you.

You regret now, spending so much time alone,so much time reflecting, and studying, and dreaming, when you could have been with friends. Once you craved solitude, now you would give up a lot to hear another voice besides yours. You are so lonely it hurts.

Some days you cast spells until your voice goes hoarse, just to hear something other then your terribly off tune humming. You would sing, but it's getting harder and harder to remember the words. Even the rhythms, are being changed inside your head, with nothing to refresh you but your imperfect memory.

"_Come on, it's time to warm up"_

You still train. You cartwheel, and run, and go as much of an exercise routine as you can manage. You miss the challenges you and your friends would make to each other. It was what made exercise fun, rather than routine.

Sometimes, you remember foods. You don't quite get hungry here, just as you never get hypothermia from the cold. Just a constant low level numb feeling. It settles in your stomach, wanting, but not needing, nourishment. Energy.

The smell of cooking breakfast, soup steeped all day to get maximum flavor, the citrus tang of cake at Cinderella's ball, the buttery smell of pastries. Eating ice cream together. The time your friends burned your cake attempting to surprise you on your birthday. You had decided to ice it anyways, and after scraping the burnt spots off, it had been both messy and delicious.

Great. Now you crave chocolate.

Other smells, other memories. The library on a sunny day, the smell of old books filling your nose. A rainy night, the smell of wet earth heavy in the air. A blistering hot day that smells of sweat, no matter how little you all train. The crisp scent of pine, and the cold wind blowing snow into your face.

Oh. That's an old one.

You remember your small hands around a shovel, lifting and moving it away from the house. Making a path to the barns, to the road. Everyone outside, shoveling, and chatting. Skating,if the ice was hard enough.

Sometimes, it felt pointless. Shoveling away all that snow, only to have to redo it again in a few hours. The impatience you felt, as you wanted to get it done with, so you could go skating. Sometimes you would run ahead, skip out on the shoveling. After a few times, you learned it was much harder to shovel when you ignored it, it got heavier, and more abundant. Even still, it was never a fun chore for you.

You wish you had a change of clothes. It would be something to do, at least. And maybe you would take the risk of wading in the water. Or maybe you could just sink into it, slipping below the surfac- no, don't go down that path. You can't do that! You won't.

"There is a way out of here, there is a way out of here, you just have to keep looking."

It's been so long. But if you give up now, if you lie down and stop,it will all come to nothing. You will be buried under the sands of time, and forgotten.

"_Sit up. You have held that stretch long enough. Time to get moving."_

There's too much that you have to accomplish, to stop.

What will happen to Ven? What has happened to Terra?

These questions don't hold the power over you that they once did. Where once, they pushed you forward, into action, they have since lost urgency, in the time you have spent here.

Time dulls all blades, extinguishes all fires, and consumes all emotion, until only a glimmer remains of what it once was.

Urgency has diminished, motivation has dwindled, anger has extinguished. You feel hollow. It's become such a constant that you almost forget that there was anything else to feel. It has a weight to it, one that gets heavier by the moment.

Routine helps. Memories motivate you at times. You get up, and shovel away the snow. Finding reasons to continue, get harder over time, but you find them, unbury them.

The smell of the grass as you lay down on it to watch shooting stars. The feeling of paper between your fingers, as you read. Royal berry ice cream, which is nice because it is not too sweet or sugary, and allows the flavor of the berries to melt on the tongue. Sunrises at the Land of Departure. The feeling of another's arms wrapped around you in a hug. You begin to cry, and you can almost hear someone talking to you. Nothing distinct, but comforting nevertheless.

And maybe one day you will stop looking, will sit down, and give up, but right now you choose to look for reasons.

You make that choice over and over again.

You choose to continue.

* * *

"_Maybe… I should fade into the darkness here." _

_That line seems to imply Aqua's reaching the point of giving up, and I wanted to explore her time in the realm of darkness, as its not given a lot of depth in game_

_From the BBS ending. _


End file.
